


home.

by ranbootxt (hanayagay)



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Anxiety, Dream Smp, Flashbacks, Gen, Panic Room, Slight Derealization, Slight Hallucinations, third person, this hasnt happened but i wish it did
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:41:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28719015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanayagay/pseuds/ranbootxt
Summary: Memory of his new home helps free Ranboo from the confines of his own mind.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 110





	home.

**Author's Note:**

> my first ever dream smp fic!!!! i love ranboo's character a lot so i couldnt help but try my hand at writing him.... uhh this being said i am sorry if any characterization is off! im still getting used to writing these characters
> 
> i hope u enjoy!!

The panic room was cold. It always was, always, with the layer of clumsily formed obsidian blocking any heat from entering and remaining cold to the touch. Not freezing, but still uncomfortable. Just enough to make him feel on edge.

Ironic, wasn’t it? The place Ranboo went to when he couldn’t think straight was the opposite of comforting. It was rather suffocating, really; the loud silence gave way to the false voices in his head, amplifying them alongside his anxieties. Anyone in the right mind would avoid such an area during their lowest hours… yet he still came back to it. Almost unconsciously he found himself there, slipping through the opening and facing the pitch black walls that almost seemed to close in on him. With time the scattered signs almost seemed duller, hastily scribbled letters mocking him. 

“Everything will be fine,” it read. Oh, if only his past self knew.

...Surely he did, though. Ever since before the festival, Ranboo knew that things weren’t fine. They weren’t fine, they wouldn’t be fine, how could they _possibly_ be fine when Dream was still there? 

_How could things possibly be fine when_ **_you’re_ ** _still there?_

Abruptly, he thrusted his arm outward, pressing it against the cool obsidian wall. The force caused it to shift, and if he moved it any further, he knew the encased TNT would still be there. Part of him wished he could forget it–

_Forget it, like how you forgot the TNT you used to fill the sewers. Like how you blew up the Community House. Like how you helped Dream ruin everything your friends loved._

Uneven juts in the wall cut through his gloves, exposing bits of his hands to the cold. If it cut through his skin, he couldn’t feel it. He couldn’t feel much at all right now. 

Why couldn’t he remember? Why? Did he even _want_ to remember?

_Didn’t you say it yourself? It’s nice to forget, sometimes._

_But forgetting doesn’t protect you from the consequences._

Ranboo pulled away from the wall, shakily lowering himself until he sat a crumpled mess on the floor. Like a mantra he muttered to himself, again and again and again–

“Remember… Remember… God, why can’t I remember? Why can’t you–”

When he pulled his knees to his chest, the sensation of metal pressing into his shirt stopped him. Shaky hands fumbled with his shirt pocket, and he pulled out an object. A circular object, heavy in his hands. 

This.... he remembered what this was. Ranboo remembered the undeniable warmth that filled his chest when it was handed to him. 

He remembered–

_“Ranboo,” Techno called, poking his head into the hound’s stables. That was where Ranboo spent most of his nights; the dogs stared at him sometimes, but oddly enough, he didn’t mind it all that much. At the sound of his name, he looked up from where he was seated._

_“Yeah?” He asked, trying not to visibly show his slight amusement. Techno looked a bit awkward talking to him one-on-one, since usually their past interactions have had either Tommy, Phil, or the adrenaline of trespassing and explosions to fuel them. Now, in the quiet of the night, it felt a bit odd. Not uncomfortable, though._

_“I, uh– I got you something. Just a housewarming… gift, I guess.” Stiffly, he held out a small box, his eyes shifting about the room. It was hard to tell if that was out of respect or him feeling awkward. Either way, Ranboo rose to his feet quickly, accepting the offering. “Phil has one too.”_

_He pulled the top of the box off, revealing the contents. It was a compass, about the size of his palm. The red needle pointed in a specific direction—it led towards…_

_“It points to my house,” Techno explained, looking off towards that same direction. “Y’know. So that you never lose your way to home. Since your memory is kinda rough.”_

_Clutching the comforting weight of metal in his hand, Ranboo looked up at the other, smiling warmly. “Techno, this– it really means a lot to me. Thank you.”_

_Shrugging, he simply turned away, locks of pink hair covering his expression. “It’s nothing, really,” he said, and yet Ranboo could hear the slight smile in his voice._

…

So that he never loses his way home, huh. 

Ranboo flipped the compass over; there, ingrained in Techno’s familiar handwriting, read one word. 

“Home,” he read out, his voice quiet.

Ranboo should really head back home, shouldn’t he? 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! if you enjoyed, please consider leaving a kudos and a comment. its free, and takes only a few seconds !! it really motivates me :D


End file.
